


Last Days on Earth

by Fangirling_FTW



Series: Destiel One-Shots [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Feels, First Kiss, Fluff, Honestly just a little blurb, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Sam and Cas are BFFs, Season 15, Team Free Will (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: The door to the motel room bursts open.  Cas is sitting in the same chair where he was when Dean left him, and he looks over in surprise, not expecting Dean to be back so soon.  Dean is agitated, and Cas pushes to his feet as Dean approaches him.“Dean?”“Shut up.”  Dean grabs a fistful of Cas’ coat as he closes the final distance.  Cas’ eyes are wide in surprise, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell, Cas?”  The words are an accusation, but the tone behind them is scared, trembling, unprepared. They’ve never crossed this line.  They’ve come close, they’ve noticed it there, drawn in the sand like a sort of finish line. There are tracks leading just to the edge, furrowed deep from the number of times they’ve both turned away.  It never felt right, there wasn’t time, they weren’t in their right minds… excuses litter the ground, nearly obscuring the line from view. Green eyes meet blue.





	Last Days on Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly mutuals on twitter were being JERKS and giving me feels over DeanCas' first kiss so i wrote my own to get back at them SO THERE :P
> 
> Nothing porny, just some cute "it could happen this way in the show if they just let it".

They survived the graveyard.  Much to their surprise. And after just barely getting their feet below them, they were on their way to deal with what Chuck unleashed, fighting nonstop for weeks until they’re all exhausted, but they can’t stop. Not them. They have to keep going, so they do.    
  
Cas doesn’t leave the brothers’ side, there’s no point now, no one in heaven to go to for help, no magic fix to go try and find. He stays with them, patching up wounds, fighting beside them. It’s just the three of them, after all, it’s important to stay close.  Dean’s pre-graveyard animosity is gone, and the one time Cas tried to say anything about it he simply shook his head, and that was that.   
  
As for the rest of the world, humans go on doing what humans do best in the face of the end of days- drinking and having sex and generally just trying to feel something before the end. The brothers aren’t immune to this. More often than not they will both slink off in the night, sometimes for drink, sometimes for company.  Cas is starting to regularly heal their livers while they sleep. Sometimes he considers following them, either Sam or Dean, but he never does. 

  
It gets bad one night, out on a hunt away from the bunker, five months after the graveyard. Sam and Dean are arguing, caving under the hopeless pile of hunts with no end in sight.  Bitter words of blame are shared until Sam storms off, and Dean grabs the Impala keys, leaving in an equally stormy huff. Cas sits quietly, left alone in the motel room, contemplating the flow of this damaged universe around him, trying to process it all.  He debates following Dean tonight, but angry Dean usually seeks out a stranger’s company. Cas won’t be wanted. Thoughts of the now doomed universe are replaced by memories, starting with the burn of Dean’s soul as he took hold of it in hell for the first time, and ending with the look in Dean’s eyes as he glanced at Cas before walking out the door.  After all, for Cas, it always began and ended with Dean.    
  
Sam finds himself in a bar on the east side of town, a quiet place where people go to just sit in the dark, alone with their misery.  He drops onto a barstool and orders a drink, the bartender narrowing her eyes at him as he picks up the glass.

 

“You don’t look as hopeless as these other walking liquor stores.”  Sam glances around at the room, the small handful of people there nursing drinks with dead eyes.  Sam empathizes.

  
“Don’t let appearances fool you.” Sam tilts the tumbler back and sets it down empty.

  
“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve obviously seen some crap, I just mean...you look more annoyed than screwed over.”  She pours another drink. Sam considers this current argument with Dean, what it was really about underneath all the bluster.  About taking what little time they had left and grabbing onto the good. If there was one thing Dean was good at, it was angry denial.

  
“Maybe.”  He picks up the glass, watching the liquid swirl in the cup.  “Call me a hopeless romantic, I guess. Just wanted one good thing, to catch a break during all this.”  He downs the whiskey, setting the empty glass down. She pours another for him and grabs another glass to pour one for herself.

  
“Here’s to the only source of optimism I’ve seen in a long time,” she almost smiles, and Sam almost smiles back.  They down their drinks together.   
  
Dean’s in his comfort zone, if one can be comfortable at the end of the world.  Booze, the hot press of bodies, in this particular bar on the west side of town it’s almost like nothing happened.  A woman approaches with amber skin and dark eyes that promise mischief, and Dean willingly follows. She leads him out to the parking lot, and he’s just rounding second base when Sam’s words that night slam into him.  He should be thinking about the woman in front of him, but all he can think about is Cas, sitting all alone in that motel room. He suddenly realizes he really doesn’t want Cas to be alone.

 

“You alright?” the woman asks.  Dean steps back.

“No I, I have to go.  There’s...there’s somewhere I have to be.”  She looks offended at first, but after a moment her face softens and she nods, walking away as Dean climbs in the car and peels out of the parking lot.  He feels like he’s running late, like he’s racing against time, his heart pounding. He double parks when he arrives at the motel, but he isn’t bothered to care.

 

The door to the motel room bursts open.  Cas is sitting in the same chair where he was when Dean left him, and he looks over in surprise, not expecting Dean to be back so soon.  Dean is agitated, and Cas pushes to his feet as Dean approaches him.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Shut up.”  Dean grabs a fistful of Cas’ coat as he closes the final distance.  Cas’ eyes are wide in surprise, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell, Cas?”  The words are an accusation, but the tone behind them is scared, trembling, unprepared. They’ve never crossed this line.  They’ve come close, they’ve noticed it there, drawn in the sand like a sort of finish line. There are tracks leading just to the edge, furrowed deep from the number of times they’ve both turned away.  It never felt right, there wasn’t time, they weren’t in their right minds… excuses litter the ground, nearly obscuring the line from view. Green eyes meet blue.

 

“Dean…”  It’s a question and an answer.  It’s a warning and a dare. Cas’ voice says his name and Dean stares the line down as he finally,  _ finally  _ steps across it.

 

“Shut up.”  It’s awkward, their noses are pressed together, and Cas’ lips are a solid line, unmoving.  But Dean’s lips find his anyway, lingering for a moment before he pulls back on a heavy exhale, like he’s been holding his breath for years.  Cas’ tongue traces his bottom lip, eyes searching Dean’s face. 

 

“You look surprised.”  

 

“I’m sorry.”  Dean isn’t sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows there’s a long list he could choose from.   
  
“I don’t believe an apology is required, Dean.”  Cas makes sure he has Dean’s attention, and for the first time, Dean lets himself see the open affection there, plain as day.  “I’m...I’m sorry, too.” Dean almost smiles, forehead pressed to Cas’ as he marvels at how, well, peaceful it is on this side of the line.

 

“No need, Cas.”  Cas raises his hand, placing it over the one tangled in his coat.  He feels a weight lifted off him, like he’s been waiting for those words for a long time.  Dean leans in, even more tentative than the first time, his lips gently pressed against Cas’ own, and Cas is expecting it this time.  He softens his lips and leans into it, kissing him back before Dean pulls away again. The brevity of their kisses gives them both time to breathe, to adjust.

 

There’s a sense of ‘what now’ between them, but it’s followed by a sense of ‘whatever happens will happen.’  Cas is holding Dean’s hand now, his other coming up to rest on Dean’s arm, a soothing pressure on his bicep. Dean’s spare hand falls to Cas’ waist, not pulling or tugging, just resting, maintaining a connection.

 

“Should we talk about this?” Cas wonders, Dean’s hand clutched to his chest. 

 

“What are words gonna say that you being here, right now, at the end of everything, doesn’t already show?”  It makes sense, and their foreheads meet again, eyes closed, sharing the comfort of just being close.

 

The door opens again, and Sam walks in.  Years ago, Dean might have sprung apart from Cas, making up some excuse, tried to escape.  This time, he simply turns his head to face his brother, Cas watching him closely for any hesitation before he too turns to face Sam.  

 

“You-you…”

 

“Hey, Sammy.”  Dean smiles. The hostility with which Sam left leaves him, and it’s like watching the years and the worry fall away.  In this moment, he’s just a little brother, relieved that the two of them have found happiness. Tears gather in Sam’s eyes, and he tries to blink them away.  Cas reaches out his hand to Sam, and Sam moves forward, practically falling into the hug that Cas is offering. Sam’s arms engulf them both, Dean’s arm sliding around his brother’s back and Cas’ shoulders.

 

“I’m so- this is…”

 

“It’s, ok, Sam.”  Dean’s voice sounds like he’s smiling, and Sam laughs, squeezing tighter and even pressing a kiss to the top of Cas’ head in his giddiness.  There’s a lot in this hug, comfort and acceptance. It’s forgiveness. 

 

They spend the evening sharing a pizza and reminiscing.  Cas is by Dean’s side, legs pressed together where they sit on the bed, and Sam is sprawled out on the bed across from them.  They talk about their best hunts, they talk about their most embarrassing moments. Cas tells stories of a time long lost to the earth, Dean and Sam listening quietly.  Slowly Sam drifts off to sleep, and Dean settles deeper into the mattress next to Cas.

 

“So,” Dean sighs.  “All things considered, I’d say me and Sam, we did ok.”  

 

“You two are good men, both of you.”  Cas glances at Sam, face soft and relaxed in sleep.  “You should be proud of yourselves.” Dean huffs an almost laugh, and Cas looks over in time to see Dean smile up at him. 

 

“Could be our last night on earth.”  It takes Cas a moment to understand the implication behind Dean’s words, but he smiles softly when he understands it.  He knows Dean isn’t serious, at least not yet, but it’s a comfort that he’s willing to make that joke. Cas reaches out, his hand a gentle pressure on Dean’s forehead.

 

“I’ll watch over you,” he assures him.  Dean doesn’t joke, or roll his eyes. He relaxes, settling into the pillow and closing his eyes.

 

“Thank you, Cas.”

 

Even at the end of the world, some things don’t change.  The two Winchester brothers, sleeping under the watchful eye of their guardian angel.  Dean, in his sleep, curls closer to Cas, and Cas’ lips quirk up in a bemused smile, his fingers resting in Dean’s hair.

 

Okay, maybe even for the Winchester’s, some things do change, and even at the end of the world, they manage to change for the better.


End file.
